


The Kings and the Terrible Secret

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [32]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: An old enemy, Anal Sex, Angst, Drama, M/M, Mirkwood, Turning up unexpectedly is not necessarily a good idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:53:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, what is this terrible secret?  Well, Thranduil has lived a long life and a lot of things can happen in that time that he might want to keep close to his chest.  But, Thorin has always asked for openness in their relationship because secrets cause misunderstandings.  Here’s yet another instance of how secrecy – and a common enemy – can finally rock their marriage.  Previous story: The Kings and Pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings and the Terrible Secret

 

 

The Kings and the Terrible Secret

 

Pt I

 

_"We are the perfect couple, we're just not in the perfect situation."_ _  
_

 

The very, very boring council meeting finished and, finally, everyone except Thorin, Dwalin and Balin departed.  The dwarven king gave a great yawn and sat there with a glum look on his face.

 

“Tired?” asked Balin.

 

“No, just missing Thranduil,” Thorin sighed.  “It’s another week before I go to Mirkwood and I’ve no-one to go home to until then.  My apartment always seems so empty without him.”

 

“Come and have a drink with us,” urged Dwalin, hoping that his king would spend some time with them.  Even half an hour with Thorin gave him pleasure.  It was better than no time at all.

 

“No, thanks,” was the response.  “I’ll just have an early night.  It’ll make the week pass more quickly.”

 

Balin was having a quick look at the agendas for the coming meetings.  “There’s nothing here that the prince couldn’t handle for you,” he said.  “I’m sure you could be spared.  Why don’t you set out tomorrow?”

 

Thorin gave the old dwarf a beaming smile.  He was always touched by how considerate and thoughtful everyone was as regards his relationship with the elven king.  “I’ll make this a one-off,” he said.  “I shan’t keep on taking advantage of your generosity.”  And he left the council room whistling cheerfully.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin set off the next morning and, as he rode along, he gleefully imagined how pleased his lover would be to see him so unexpectedly.  He could imagine it all in his mind’s eye: Thranduil opening the door – the delighted and surprised look on his face – being dragged into his apartment whilst the door was locked behind him – the passionate embrace – the mad scramble to the bed as clothes were removed in a hasty flurry – or, perhaps not making it as far as the bed – the carpet burns on his elbows and knees!  Aahhh!  Good times!

 

And then he passed the spot where he and the elven king had made love under the trees after that time when he had been found on the bed with Bilbo.  Yet another misunderstanding, of course.  He had been about to punch the living daylights out of the hobbit, not screw him, and he had had to ride after the elf who was in a furious temper.  He brought his horse to a momentary halt.  Yes, that was the place.  Make-up sex was always the best.  The grass had been scuffed so badly by their enthusiasm that he could still see a bald spot where it hadn’t as yet regrown.

 

_All these misunderstandings!  Would they ever see an end to them?_ he mused as he rode on.  Well, after that awful row over Haldir, the marchwarden, when Thorin had uncovered a whole bundle of pornographic ‘love’ letters exchanged between them and had attacked Thranduil viciously with his whip – right across the face too – he thought they had learned a lesson.  No more secrets!  If they knew everything there was to know about each other, then there would be no misunderstandings – surely?

 

He wasn’t far from the stronghold of Mirkwood now and he began to think about those past lovers who had caused trouble, one way and another: Ethril, the elf lord, Thranduil’s wife, Dwalin, Haldir, and after that disgusting experience with Bilbo in the brothel, did he also count as a lover?  No, he refused to add him to the list.  And, of course, there was……Maelon. 

 

Thorin shifted guiltily in the saddle.  This was one person that both of them avoided talking about – they would rather pretend that Maelon hadn’t happened.  And perhaps they _should_ talk about him more.  He was an elf lord with a corrupt heart who had seduced Thranduil – along with many others - when the prince had been quite young.  And, then, after an assault upon Thorin in the hot springs, Maelon had blackmailed him into a sickening sexual relationship.  In the end, the dwarf and the elven king had revealed the truth to each other and, finally, hundreds of years after he should have done so, Thranduil had banished the elf lord from his court.  But, although the two kings had comforted each other at the time, Maelon was still too painful a subject to discuss as much as they should.

 

Thorin approached the gates of Mirkwood and the guard saluted him cheerfully.  “Written any more poems just lately?” he asked.  An in-joke: Thorin had become a big favourite with the elves and it gave him huge satisfaction that he seemed to be accepted at last.  He dismounted and tossed his reins to the stable-boy who also greeted him with a wide grin.  He noticed Thranduil’s horse in its loose-box and was pleased to see that the elf wasn’t out for the day.  As he entered the palace and passed the conference room, he could also see through the open door that no meeting was in progress.  Good!  And, since it was mid-afternoon, he shouldn’t be in the dining-hall either.  Everything was pointing in the right direction and he fully expected to find the elven king at home.

 

He tried the apartment door and when he found it locked, he gave it a sharp knock.  Well, he’d better be in!  And he stood there with a silly smile on his face, waiting to greet his lover.  The door opened and the smile was instantly wiped from his face.  He couldn’t believe it because, standing there with an unpleasant smirk on his lips, was….Maelon.

 

The elf lord looked him up and down and then glanced over his shoulder, back into the room.  “It’s Thorin,” he said.

 

There was a long, long silence and then Thranduil’s voice said: “Don’t let him in.”

 

Maelon looked at Thorin who was still standing there with a stunned expression frozen on his features.  “Go away,” he said with a sneer.  “He doesn’t want to see you.”  And then he shut the door firmly in Thorin’s face.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

 

_“Statistically speaking, there is a 65 percent chance that the love of your life is having an affair. Be very suspicious.”_

 

Thorin thundered on the door until his knuckles were raw, calling out Thranduil’s name.  But, no-one answered or came to open it.  Finally, the distressed dwarven king strode down to the stables and, remounting his horse, he rode out into the forest, until he found a quiet glade where he could think.

 

Maelon!  Maelon!  What on earth was he doing there?  He had been banished.  And Thranduil hated him.  He had nearly castrated him when he had found out about his seduction of Thorin and the elf bitterly regretted that he hadn’t protected his partner from him………Or that is what he had told the dwarven king at the time.

 

Think, Thorin, think!  He mustn’t jump to stupid conclusions.  So, what was he doing in Thranduil’s apartment?  And why wouldn’t Thranduil let him in?  And why was he there when Thorin wasn’t expected for another week?

 

There seemed to be no innocent answers to these questions.

 

Thorin had some not-so-innocent answers, of course.  For hundreds of years, Maelon had exerted a strange kind of power over Thranduil – and perhaps he still did.  Even though the elven king had tried to banish him from his life, maybe he hadn’t quite managed it.  Maybe, Maelon had asked to see him once more so that he could beg for his exile to be rescinded.  Yes, that must be it!  But, why then had Thranduil refused to see his partner and involve him in any discussion on the matter?  Why did he refuse him entry to the room?

 

The dwarf’s head began to fill with wild imaginings – he just couldn’t help it.  Why wouldn’t Thranduil let him into the room?  Was it because he had caught the elf out in some way?  Was he naked?  Was he tied to the bed?  He knew all about Maelon’s tastes and, if the corrupt elf lord was there in Mirkwood for a bit more than a ‘discussion’ then this was the sort of scenario that came so easily into his mind.

 

Yes, what sort of influence might Maelon still have over Thranduil?  Thorin knew the incredible manipulative power that the elf lord was capable of exerting because he had experienced it himself and had been forced to do the most disgusting things with him because he could see no way out.

 

He had to talk with Thranduil.  He would go back and wait until the elf was willing to see him.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin lurked close to the apartment where he could see the door.  He hoped that he would be able to accost the elven king in the corridor if he should come out or catch him alone in his rooms if Maelon should leave for some reason.  He waited several hours and finally, Maelon emerged from the apartment and made for the stairs that led down to the dining hall.  He must be going to eat – or, since Thranduil wasn’t with him – perhaps he was going to fetch a tray.

 

The moment that the elf lord disappeared from sight, Thorin hastened to the door and tried the handle.  It was unlocked and he barged into the room.  He caught a fleeting glimpse of platinum hair before Thranduil vanished into the bedroom and slammed the door.  He heard the bolt being drawn.  “Get out, Thorin,” he yelled in trembling tones.  “I don’t wish to see you.”

 

The dwarf leaned against the door and said quietly: “What is it, Thranduil, my love?  Tell me – let me help you.  What hold has Maelon over you?  Shall I kill him for you?”

 

The elf’s response was hysterical.  “No!  No!  Don’t you dare lay a finger on him!  If you touch him, then it is truly the end between us!”

 

“And so,” continued Thorin, “it is not the end for us now?  You are not rejecting me completely?”

 

“No,” replied Thranduil, quieter now.  “I shall speak to you soon.  Maelon has his reasons for being here and I have my reasons for not wanting to see you at the moment.  But, now, can you please just leave.”

 

Thorin was about to argue with him further but Maelon entered the room, carrying a tray of food.  He looked at the dwarf for a moment and then calmly placed the tray on a table.  “Have you seen him?” he asked.

 

“No,” replied Thorin angrily.  “He locked himself in the bedroom before I had the chance.  I promised him I wouldn’t kill you, Maelon, but I’m not quite sure I have the restraint.”  And he bunched his fists.  “Tell me what is going on or I shall do you an injury.”

 

Maelon gave a complacent smile which really rattled Thorin’s cage.  “It is not for me to tell you anything, Thorin.  And now I think you ought to leave so that Thranduil and I can dine together.”

 

The urge to smash Maelon in the face grew stronger but he was stopped by Thranduil calling to him from behind the door.  “Come back tomorrow afternoon, Thorin, and I shall speak to you then.”

 

The dwarf had to be content and he withdrew slowly and sullenly from the room and, if looks could kill, then Maelon would have dropped down dead on the floor before him. 

 

Maelon gave him an evil smile as he showed him the door.  “Let me fuck you, Thorin,” he whispered, “and you shall know everything.”

 

“You haven’t changed, have you?” spat the dwarven king in disgust and he marched off down the corridor.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

_“For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.”_

 

Thorin found a quiet area in the dining hall where he could eat some food and think.  But his desire for privacy was interrupted by the beautiful Lady Glamel.  She had a ready wit but, although she made Thranduil laugh, she was also known for her sharp tongue and her tendency to spread malicious gossip.  Thorin had also first met her in the company of Maelon.

 

“Why, hello, Thorin,” she said with that incisive smile that spelled trouble.  “Not with the king tonight?”  And when the dwarf only gave her a courteous nod of his head, she pressed on with:  “I believe that our dear Maelon has returned to the court at long last.  Perhaps they are dining together in Thranduil’s rooms?”  This was so close to the truth that the dwarf gave her a quick look and Glamel, realising that her barb had hit a mark, continued:  “Those two were so close, you know.  Or, perhaps you don’t know.  Their – friendship - was first established more than a thousand years ago and, how old are you?  Two hundred at a guess.”

 

“Yes,” replied Thorin curtly, “I know all about Maelon.  I’m surprised that, knowing what I know, you are a friend of his, my lady.”

 

If he thought this would put her off her stroke, he was wrong.  “But, my dear,” she responded, “the wicked ones are always the most entertaining, don’t you think?  At least, our king is inclined to think so.  I wonder what they are talking about at the moment, what they are doing?”

 

When this failed to provoke the dwarf, she continued: “Thranduil owes Maelon so much, you know.  They are two great warriors and fought side by side throughout the centuries.  I have heard that the king even owes his life to Maelon.”

 

Well, this was news to Thorin but, since they never spoke about the elf lord, it was not surprising that he didn’t know about such things.  “I shall have to ask Thranduil further about their history together,” he said, “but, as you say, more than a thousand years is a lot to cover and I have very little interest in Maelon’s story.”

 

Glamel was making no progress and so she dug further: “It was so strange, the way he suddenly disappeared from the court without a word to anyone.  Wasn’t that soon after he met you?  He seemed to admire you and I wondered if he shared with you the reason for his departure, hmm?”

 

Thorin was relieved to know that even the biggest court gossip knew nothing about the reason for Maelon’s banishment – or even that he had been banished.  Let her dig: she would get nothing from him.  “He shared very little with me, my lady.  But, I’m sure he will tell you the whole story when he meets with you next.”  He said this in complete confidence that Maelon would do nothing of the kind.  Whatever the reason for his return, he would not want the whole court knowing of his shameful exit.

 

But, she wouldn’t give up.  “Ah, if only he would.  But he shares his secrets only with his lovers and women are not to his taste, don’t you know.  But, I expect he is sharing everything with Thranduil at the moment.”  She sighed.  “He is supposed to be a wonderful lover and it grieves me that he couldn’t be a closer friend of mine than he actually is.  Perhaps the king will be able to tell me what I am missing out on one day.”  And with a spiked smile, she curtsied and sailed off to bother someone else.

 

But, her remarks had stung.  Thorin sat there drinking heavily and imagining all sorts of intimacy taking place.  He recalled all the things that Maelon had done to him when he had had him in his power and could see him doing the same to Thranduil.  He felt sick, angry and confused.  What was going on?  He wondered how he could make it through to the following day when he hoped that his lover would explain precisely why Maelon had returned and what he was doing in his apartments.

 

.o00o.

 

He had a bad night in the room allotted him, still wondering what Thranduil and Maelon were doing together.  The morning, and then the afternoon, couldn’t come quickly enough.

 

At last, the time came and Thorin hastened to his meeting with the elven king.  Thranduil opened the door and the elf was alone – no sign of Maelon.  As he closed the door behind the dwarf, Thorin couldn’t take his eyes off him.  Perhaps it was because he hadn’t seen him for more than a week, perhaps it was because the elf had begun to look tired when they were last in Erebor after his phantom pregnancy but, today, he was stunningly beautiful.  His skin was like ivory; his eyes were as blue as a rain-washed sky; his lips were moulded in a perfect bow and his hair was like pale spun gold.  He opened his arms to Thorin and, holding him in a tight embrace, he kissed him passionately.   The dwarf felt that everything would be all right, now that they were in each other’s arms again.

 

“Tell me about Maelon,” breathed the dwarf into Thranduil’s throat.  “Tell me why you wouldn’t see me.”

 

Immediately, the elf drew back from him and his manner changed.  “I don’t wish to discuss it,” he said coldly.  “I am asking you not to mention this again.”

 

Thorin drew back too.  “I thought there were to be no more secrets between us,” he rasped.  And the anger and the suspicions that he had contained so manfully these past two days began to bubble to the surface.  He reached up and touched that perfect face: “Such a thing of beauty,” he said.  “Must be due to all that sex with Maelon, don’t you think?”

 

The elf slapped him hard around the face.  “Keep that tongue under control,” he snapped, “or you will never see me again.”

 

Thorin grabbed him by the wrist.  “What is this all about?” he shouted.  “You banish Maelon and then he reappears – in your rooms.  You shut yourself away with him.  You refuse to have anything to do with me – to see me or to talk with me – and then you expect me to accept the situation – just like that.  No questions, no curiosity, no nothing.”

 

“Yes,” Thranduil shouted back, “that’s what I expect!”

 

“You can expect all you like,” was the furious response, “but I refuse to accept.  Either you tell me what this is all about, or our relationship is over.”

 

Thranduil swept out onto the balcony, his robes flowing in silver ripples around him.  He stood, head bowed, his hands trembling on the parapet.  “You may not know it yet, but our relationship is already over,” he said quietly.  And he turned slowly to face the dwarf.

 

An expression of utter horror settled upon Thorin’s features, but he couldn’t look away: he was fixed on Thranduil’s face.

 

“I can see the disgust in your eyes,” said Thranduil in resignation.  “Leave me now because I cannot bear to see your love for me drain away and disappear into nothingness.”

 

But Thorin was frozen to the spot.  What was this monstrous thing before him?  Where had his beautiful lover gone?

 

.o00o

 

Pt IV

 

_“Beauty in art is often nothing but ugliness subdued.”_ __  
  
  


The silence stretched out between them.  At last, Thranduil said, “Dragon fire.”

 

It explained a lot.

 

“You’ve looked long enough,” he said.  “You can go now.”

 

But Thorin stepped slowly forward and gently cupped the damaged face in his big hand.  The tears ran down his cheeks as he saw all that beauty reduced to ruin.  Almost the entire left-hand side of the elven king’s face had been burned away.  There was a gaping hole where his cheek should have been.  You could see right through to his teeth and it was horribly grotesque: a bit higher and he would have lost an eye.

 

The dwarf leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on his still perfect lips.  “You said no secrets.  Why didn’t you tell me?” he murmured.

 

“Because I thought that if you saw me as I truly was, I would lose you,” said Thranduil, his voice breaking.  “But, when you turned up a week early, I knew then that I had lost you for all my care.  In the end, life catches you out.”

 

Thorin kissed him again.  “If you don’t want to lose me, then you must tell me everything – now.”  And, he led him to the bed and lay down with him.  “When did it happen?” he asked.  “And how have you managed to disguise it for so long?”

 

Thranduil closed his eyes. “It happened hundreds of years ago when a group of fire-drakes came down from the north.  The battle with them was long and hard and many of us were lost.  Maelon and I were survivors – we were two of the best fighters on Middle-earth – but one dragon was left and seemed unconquerable.  Finally, I defeated him with cunning.  He had a weak spot, like Smaug, and so I crawled into a ditch and stabbed him in the breast as he climbed over me.  But, with his dying breath, he burned my face away.”

 

He paused.

 

“Maelon saved my life and was the only one to know the extent of my injuries.”  He paused again.  “You know he has a special skill – he can change his face by using the art of glamourie.”

 

Yes, Thorin did know.  Maelon had used glamourie to great effect when he had pretended to be Thranduil and had climbed into his bed.

 

“He showed me how to use the spell of holding so that my face would appear whole in everyone’s eyes….That’s why I took so long to banish him, even after what he had done to me and to many others.  I felt I owed him too much.”

 

Thorin stroked the side of his lover’s face that was whole and perfect.  “So, what went wrong that you were forced to invite Maelon back to Mirkwood last week?”

 

“You’ve guessed,” replied the elven king with a wan smile.  “Yes, much against my will, I was forced to invite him back because, after the stress of that phantom pregnancy, the spell began to slip and I would occasionally lose control momentarily – fortunately when no-one was around.  I knew I needed Maelon to teach me how to improve upon my skills.  By the time he arrived here, I was in a bad way.  The disguise had completely deserted me and I kept to my rooms, leaving notes for food to my servants outside the door.  The spell is not a thing you can learn overnight and I knew it would take me several days to re-acquire the skill.  And then you turned up a week early.”

 

“How inconsiderate of me,” murmured Thorin.

 

“Yes, it was,”   responded the elven king with a small laugh.  “There was I, completely shorn of my beauty, Maelon had only just arrived and then you knocked on the door.  What was I supposed to do?  My only choice was to send you away and hope to come up with a good reason for my odd behaviour later.”

 

“But, you could find no good reason.”

 

Thranduil sighed.  “You know me too well to believe any silly excuse.  I could only say that I had no wish to discuss things and hope you would go along with it.  Faint hope but better than no hope at all.”

 

“The truth was the best way forward.”

 

“I realised that at last which was why I showed you my true face.  But, it was a last act of defiance and then I expected you to leave me.”

 

“Oh, my love,” said Thorin.  “How mean and shallow you must think my feelings for you are, that I would no longer want you because of a damaged face.  I love you for more than your beauty.”  Then he laughed.  “You are talking to someone who was so jealous when he found out about Haldir that one plan was to smash your face to a pulp so that no-one but myself would want you.  A waste of effort, under the circumstances.”

 

Thranduil seized the hand that lingered on his face.  “Take a good look and remember me,” he said, “because what you normally see is not real.”  Then, with the spell of glamourie, he healed his wound.

 

“Real or not,” said Thorin, “you will always be beautiful in my eyes.”  And he kissed his forehead and then his lips and then his throat.  “Has Maelon gone?” he asked.

 

“Yes: his reward was to have permission to return to Mirkwood once in a while.  But, he left this morning.”

 

“Good,” said Thorin.  “Then we shan’t be interrupted.  I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do this.  Bed or floor?”

 

“Oh, bed I think,” laughed Thranduil.  “I’m feeling a little delicate today.  Something soft would suit me best.”

 

“Nothing soft about this,” growled the dwarven king low in his throat, as he rolled on top of the elf and pushed his rock hard member deep inside him.

 

.o00o.

 

**And yet another happy resolution to their problems, LOL.  How many people worked out what the secret was before Thranduil revealed it?  I like to use as much of the film as possible.**

**Next week, in _The Kings and Baby Durin_ , we return to the aftermath of Thranduil’s phantom pregnancy, the kings’ relationship with the new baby and the effect that all this has on Thorin.  Some bits are funny and some bits are sad.  See you next week.**

**Stories referred to in the episode above that you might like to read if you haven’t read them already:**

**The ‘in-joke’ about poetry results from the situation described in _The Kings and the Flowered Pavilion_.  Bet you didn’t know that Thorin was a poet?  No, neither did he, LOL!**

**And the corrupt Maelon makes his appearance in a story told over two episodes _: The Kings and the Rivals_ and _Kings, Secrets and Lies_.  **

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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